I hated this room. In the darkness, with the odd shadows thrown by the weak glow, it seemed only more forbidding. There was a new smell-the room reeked of slow decay and stinging alcohol and bile.

Two of the cots were occupied. Doc’s feet hung over the edge of one; I recognized his light snore. On the other, looking hideously withered and misshapen, Walter watched us approach.

“Are you up for visitors, Walt?” Ian whispered when Walter’s eyes drifted in his direction.

“Ungh,” Walter moaned. His lips drooped from his slack face, and his skin gleamed wetly in the low light.

“Is there anything you need?” I murmured. I pulled my hands free-they fluttered helplessly in the air between me and Walter.

His loosely rolling eyes searched the darkness. I took a step closer.

“Is there anything we can do for you? Anything at all?”

His eyes roamed till they found my face. Abruptly, they focused through the drunken stupor and the pain.

“Finally,” he gasped. His breath wheezed and whistled. “I knew you would come if I waited long enough. Oh, Gladys, I have so much to tell you.”

CHAPTER 31.Needed

I froze and then looked quickly over my shoulder to see if someone was behind me.

“Gladys was his wife,” Jamie whispered almost silently. “She didn’t escape.”

“Gladys,” Walter said to me, oblivious to my reaction. “Would you believe I went and got cancer? What are the odds, eh? Never took a sick day in my life…” His voice faded out until I couldn’t hear it, but his lips continued to move. He was too weak to lift his hand; his fingers dragged themselves toward the edge of the cot, toward me.

Ian nudged me forward.

“What should I do?” I breathed. The sweat beading on my forehead had nothing to do with the humid heat.

“… grandfather lived to be a hundred and one,” Walter wheezed, audible again. “Nobody ever had cancer in my family, not even the cousins. Didn’t your aunt Regan have skin cancer, though?”

He looked at me trustingly, waiting for an answer. Ian poked me in the back.

“Um…” I mumbled.

“Maybe that was Bill’s aunt,” Walter allowed.

I shot a panicked glance at Ian, who shrugged. “Help,” I mouthed at him.

He motioned for me to take Walter’s searching fingers.

Walter’s skin was chalk white and translucent. I could see the faint pulse of blood in the blue veins on the back of his hand. I lifted his hand gingerly, worried about the slender bones that Jamie had said were so brittle. It felt too light, as if it were hollow.

“Ah, Gladdie, it’s been hard without you. It’s a nice place here; you’ll like it, even when I’m gone. Plenty of people to talk to-I know how you need to have your conversation…” The volume of his voice sank until I couldn’t make out the words anymore, but his lips still shaped the words he wanted to share with his wife. His mouth kept moving, even when his eyes closed and his head lolled to the side.

Ian found a wet cloth and began wiping Walter’s shining face.

“I’m not good at… at deception,” I whispered, watching Walter’s mumbling lips to make sure he wasn’t listening to me. “I don’t want to upset him.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Ian reassured me. “He’s not lucid enough to care.”

“Do I look like her?”

“Not a bit-I’ve seen her picture. Stocky redhead.”

“Here, let me do that.”

Ian gave me the rag, and I cleaned the sweat off Walter’s neck. Busy hands always made me feel more comfortable. Walter continued to mumble. I thought I heard him say, “Thanks, Gladdie, that’s nice.”

I didn’t notice that Doc’s snores had stopped. His familiar voice was suddenly there behind me, too gentle to startle.

“How is he?”

“Delusional,” Ian whispered. “Is that the brandy or the pain?”

“More the pain, I would think. I’d trade my right arm for some morphine.”

“Maybe Jared will produce another miracle,” Ian suggested.

“Maybe,” Doc sighed.

I wiped absently at Walter’s pallid face, listening more intently now, but they didn’t speak of Jared again.

Not here, Melanie whispered.

Looking for help for Walter, I agreed.

Alone, she added.

I thought about the last time I’d seen him-the kiss, the belief… He probably wanted some time to himself.

I hope he isn’t out there convincing himself that you’re a very talented actress-slash-Seeker again…

That’s possible, of course.

Melanie groaned silently.

Ian and Doc murmured in quiet voices about inconsequential things, mostly Ian catching Doc up on what was going on in the caves.

“What happened to Wanda’s face?” Doc whispered, but I could still hear him easily.

“More of the same,” Ian said in a tight voice.

Doc made an unhappy noise under his breath and then clicked his tongue.

Ian told him a bit about tonight’s awkward class, about Geoffrey’s questions.

“It would have been convenient if Melanie had been possessed by a Healer,” Doc mused.

I flinched, but they were behind me and probably didn’t notice.

“We’re lucky it was Wanda,” Ian murmured in my defense. “No one else -”

“I know,” Doc interrupted, good-natured as always. “I guess I should say, it’s too bad Wanda didn’t have more of an interest in medicine.”

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. I was careless to reap the benefits of perfect health without ever being curious about the cause.

A hand touched my shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for,” Ian said.

Jamie was being very quiet. I looked around and saw that he was curled up on the cot where Doc had been napping.

“It’s late,” Doc noted. “Walter’s not going anywhere tonight. You should get some sleep.”

“We’ll be back,” Ian promised. “Let us know what we can bring, for either of you.”

I laid Walter’s hand down, patting it cautiously. His eyes snapped open, focusing with more awareness than before.

“Are you leaving?” he wheezed. “Do you have to go so soon?”

I took his hand again quickly. “No, I don’t have to leave.”

He smiled and closed his eyes again. His fingers locked around mine with brittle strength.

Ian sighed.

“You can go,” I told him. “I don’t mind. Take Jamie back to his bed.”

Ian glanced around the room. “Hold on a sec,” he said, and then he grabbed the cot closest to him. It wasn’t heavy-he lifted it easily and slid it into place next to Walter’s. I stretched my arm to the limit, trying not to jostle Walter, so that Ian could arrange the cot under it. Then he grabbed me up just as easily and set me on the cot beside Walter. Walter’s eyes never fluttered. I gasped quietly, caught off guard by the casual way Ian was able to put his hands on me-as though I were human.

Ian jerked his chin toward Walter’s hand clasped around mine. “Do you think you can sleep like that?”

“Yes, I’m sure I can.”

“Sleep well, then.” He smiled at me, then turned and lifted Jamie from the other cot. “Let’s go, kid,” he muttered, carrying the boy with no more effort than if he were an infant. Ian’s quiet footsteps faded into the distance until I couldn’t hear them anymore.

Doc yawned and went to sit behind the desk he’d constructed out of wooden crates and an aluminum door, taking the dim lamp with him. Walter’s face was too dark to see, and that made me nervous. It was like he was already gone. I took comfort in his fingers, still curled stiffly around mine.

Doc began to shuffle through some papers, humming almost inaudibly to himself. I drifted off to the sound of the gentle rustling.

Walter recognized me in the morning.

He didn’t wake until Ian showed up to escort me back; the cornfield was due to be cleared of the old stalks. I promised Doc I would bring him breakfast before I got to work. The very last thing I did was to carefully loosen my numb fingers, freeing them from Walter’s grasp.

His eyes opened. “Wanda,” he whispered.

“Walter?” I wasn’t sure how long he would know me, or if he would remember last night. His hand clutched at the empty air, so I gave him my left, the one that wasn’t dead.

“You came to see me. That was nice. I know… with the others back… must be hard… for you… Your face…”

He seemed to be having a difficult time making his lips form the words, and his eyes went in and out of focus. How like him, that his first words to me would be full of concern.

“Everything’s fine, Walter. How are you feeling?”

“Ah -” He groaned quietly. “Not so… Doc?”

“Right here,” Doc murmured, close behind me.

“Got any more liquor?” he gasped.

“Of course.”

Doc was already prepared. He held the mouth of a thick glass bottle to Walter’s slack lips and carefully poured the dark brown liquid in slow drips into his mouth. Walter winced as each sip burned down his throat. Some of it trickled out the side of his mouth and onto his pillow. The smell stung my nose.

“Better?” Doc asked after a long moment of slow pouring.

Walter grunted. It didn’t sound like assent. His eyes closed.

“More?” Doc asked.

Walter grimaced and then moaned.

Doc cursed under his breath. “Where’s Jared?” he muttered.

I stiffened at the name. Melanie stirred and then drifted again.

Walter’s face sagged. His head rolled back on his neck.

“Walter?” I whispered.

“The pain’s too much for him to stay conscious. Let him be,” Doc said.

My throat felt swollen. “What can I do?”

Doc’s voice was desolate. “About as much as I can. Which is nothing. I’m useless.”

“Don’t be like that, Doc,” I heard Ian murmur. “This isn’t your fault. The world doesn’t work the way it used to. No one expects more of you.”

My shoulders hunched inward. No, their world didn’t work the same way anymore.

A finger tapped my arm. “Let’s go,” Ian whispered.

I nodded and started to pull my hand free again.

Walter’s eyes rolled open, unseeing. “Gladdie? Are you here?” he implored.

“Um… I’m here,” I said uncertainly, letting his fingers lock around mine.

Ian shrugged. “I’ll get you both some food,” he whispered, and then he left.

I waited anxiously for him to return, unnerved by Walter’s misconception. Walter murmured Gladys’s name over and over, but he didn’t seem to need anything from me, for which I was grateful. After a while, half an hour maybe, I began listening for Ian’s footsteps in the tunnel, wondering what could be taking him so long.

Doc stood by his desk the whole time, staring into nothing with his shoulders slumped. It was easy to see how useless he felt.

And then I did hear something, but it wasn’t footsteps.

“What is that?” I asked Doc in a whisper; Walter was quiet again, maybe unconscious. I didn’t want to disturb him.

Doc turned to look at me, cocking his head to the side at the same time to listen.

The noise was a funny thrumming, a fast, soft beat. I thought I heard it get just a little louder, but then it seemed quieter again.

“That’s weird,” Doc said. “It almost sounds like…” He paused, his forehead furrowing in concentration as the unfamiliar sound faded.

We were listening intently, so we heard the footsteps when they were still far away. They did not match the expected, even pace of Ian’s return. He was running-no, sprinting.

Doc reacted immediately to the sound of trouble. He jogged quickly out to meet Ian. I wished I could see what was wrong, too, but I didn’t want to upset Walter by trying to free my hand again. I listened hard instead.

“Brandt?” I heard Doc say in surprise.

“Where is it? Where is it?” the other man demanded breathlessly. The running footsteps only paused for a second, then started up again, not quite as fast.

“What are you talking about?” Doc asked, calling back this way.

“The parasite!” Brandt hissed impatiently, anxiously, as he burst through the arched entry.

Brandt was not a big man like Kyle or Ian; he was probably only a few inches taller than me, but he was thick and solid as a rhinoceros. His eyes swept the room; his piercing gaze focused on my face for half a second, then took in Walter’s oblivious form, and then raced around the room only to end up on me again.

Doc caught up with Brandt then, his long fingers gripping Brandt’s shoulder just as the broader man took the first step in my direction.

“What are you doing?” Doc asked, his voice the closest to a growl I’d ever heard it.

Before Brandt answered, the odd sound returned, going from soft to screaming loud to soft again with a suddenness that had us all frozen. The beats thudded right on top of one another, shaking the air when they were at their loudest.

“Is that-is that a helicopter?” Doc asked, whispering.

“Yes,” Brandt whispered back. “It’s the Seeker-the one from before, the one who was looking for it.” He jerked his chin at me.

My throat was suddenly too small-the breaths moving through it were thin and shallow, not enough. I felt dizzy.

No. Not now. Please.

What is her problem? Mel snarled in my head. Why can’t she leave us alone?

We can’t let her hurt them!

But how do we stop her?